Every Day Thoughts January
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favorite characters.
1. Intro

Intro

Every Day Thoughts is based on a series of quotes on a friendship calendar that continually taunted me whenever I used the computer over the summer at home. So I had the idea to write a short oneshot/drabble for each quote. It was only after I'd typed them out that I realised there are 365 days in a year...

Idiot that I am, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Thus here they are. I shall attempt to post one a day, but real life can keep me away from my computer sometimes. There are no particular ships, unless you count the minor Jibbs that might find its way in every now and then, and I have tried to include as many friendship pairings as possible. Due to my complete denial of JD, there will be Jenny but no Vance.

This whole series is dedicated to Sophie, without whom I would be completely stuck. When I can't see any potential pairing, she gives me one and the whole thing slots into place.

Hope you enjoy!


	2. Jan 1

Every Day Thoughts: January

_**Jan 1**_

**You will discover another part of yourself in each new friend you make.**

Patience. Something Anthony DiNozzo had never possessed in spades. He always wanted everything immediately.

He supposed it had started when he was a young boy. His father had bought him anything he had asked for, as though money could buy love. As he had grown older, he had found it more and more difficult to wait for anything. He found himself bouncing around, refusing to wait for five minutes when he could have something else immediately. Sure, Gibbs had helped, in his own way, mainly be growling at him and forcing him to do work.

Until one day, one Ziva David, crazy ninja Mossad chick, had wandered into the squad room and into his life. At first, he had seen her as a replacement for Kate, who he didn't feel needed replacing. But Ziva was nothing like Kate. She scared him, although he would never admit it to her face. She teased him in more ways than one. She challenged him on a level he had never realized he needed challenging on.

And somehow, he found his patience growing. It had something to do with her idioms, he felt. She could never seem to get them quite right. Initially, he had found it infuriating. But in time, he found himself longing for her slip-ups, simply so he could correct her. It was not a malicious longing, more a desire to help her. He couldn't help her with much – she was incredibly capable and independent – but he was happy to take what he could get.

"You look as though you head is in the sky," Ziva called across the squad room, interrupting his chain of thought.

He smiled broadly. "Clouds, not sky, _Zee-vah_."


	3. Jan 2

_**Jan 2**_

**When we love our friends, we see their goodness and beauty, no matter what they look like, how old they are, or what they choose to wear.**

"Ducky!" Abby squealed, running over to him and enveloping him in a massive hug. "I love it!"

"Love what, my dear?" Ducky inquired, somehow slithering out of her grasp.

"The suit! And the bow tie is just perfect. Where did you get it?" She watched as he smiled warmly at her.

He straightened the bow tie slightly as he replied. "Thank you, Abigail. Mother bought it for me. Quite what she was doing in that particular shop has eluded me, as I cannot imagine what a woman in her nineties would want with anything there."

Abby grinned. "It was a sex toy shop, wasn't it?"

"Quite," he grimaced.

Abby giggled in delight, clapping her hands together. "Every woman has needs, Ducky, even your mother in her old age, although I agree it is ever so slightly disturbing to think of her like that, not that I _am_ thinking of her like that just because the thought is simply disgusting, not that I'm saying that your mother is disgusting because she isn't and she's a really nice person even when she is horribly confused, and I bet she's confused most of the time at home as well, although I'm sure she can find her way around; I wasn't thinking of _that_ type of confused, because she really is a lovely person and –"

Ducky patted her on the arm. "I understand exactly what you are trying to say," he offered, cutting her off mid-rant.

The Goth beamed, and pulled him into another hug. Ducky always understood her, which was one of the things that made him so lovable.


	4. Jan 3

_**Jan 3**_

**Many friends in general, one in special. – George Herbert, **_**Jacula Prudentum**_

Gibbs put all his energy into sanding his boat. Jenny was out for the night, at an official function. At the last one, she had gotten fed up of his constant hovering, and had therefore banned him from attending the current one.

It was not his fault she had been fawned over by a slimy senator who needed to be reminded of his wife at home. It was also not his fault that he might have assaulted said senator a few minutes later – his hand had slipped and the senator had been in the way. Jenny had not seen it that way, and had confined him to his basement while other married men hit on her.

A floorboard creaked, but he did not bother to raise his head. If anyone wanted him, they knew he was in his basement. Whoever this was, they were pottering around in his kitchen, rummaging through his refrigerator. From the sound of the heels, he had a funny feeling who his visitor was.

The stairs creaked as she descended; her familiar perfume reaching his nose and making him smile softly to himself.

"I thought you might want to know that I survived the function," Jenny called to him as she crossed the room. "Snagged you a beer," she continued, placing one on the workbench and raising another to her lips.

"From my own fridge," he teased.

"They wouldn't allow me to smuggle the rubber chicken out," she countered, amusement coloring her voice.

"If you were still in the field, you would have found a way," he semi-joked, finally placing his sander down and reaching for his beer.

"If I were a field agent, I wouldn't have been there tonight," she smirked.

He considered for a few moments. "Nope, I can't beat that," he decided.

She laughed softly and he joined in.

"Hey, Jen?"

"What?"

"Like the dress."


	5. Jan 4

_**Jan 4**_

**A friend is a keeper of secrets and a guardian of confidences.**

With the squad room thankfully fairly empty when he arrived, Tim dashed over to Ziva's desk. The Israeli was busy typing up a report from the previous week, which did not deter Tim.

"Ziva," he hissed frantically, trying to get her attention before his life ended.

"Good morning, Tim," she greeted him, full of cheer. "What is wrong?"

"You remember who you saw me with yesterday?" he checked.

Ziva tried to recall the situation. "You and Nikki Jardine were getting coffee, yes? And you were standing very close –"

"I remember," he cut her off. "Please don't mention it to Tony."

Ziva looked confused. "Why should I not mention it to Tony?" she queried. "Surely he would be happy for you to be dating her, although I was surprised to see her in a place serving drinks to the public."

"She bought her own," Tim explained. "But _please_. I will never hear the end of it from Tony."

"You are right," the Israeli admitted. "He will tease you about it for months."

"Ziva –"

"I will keep your secret," Ziva promised. "Do not worry."

"Do not worry about what?" Tony inquired, wandering in.

"That would be none of your business," Ziva answered.

Tim smiled to himself. Ziva would keep his secret, and Tony would never find out.


	6. Jan 5

_**Jan 5**_

**Friendship is a cadence of divine melody melting through the heart. – Mildmay **

Tony groaned as the elevator arrived at its destination. He did want to be here, but not quite like this.

They had caught a case involving an unknown girl found murdered on a Navy base. Everyone was taking this badly, with Gibbs being even more obsessed and focused that usual. Ziva and McGee were keeping their heads down, the Director was hiding in MTAC, and Ducky had managed to update them while keeping completely on topic, for once. But he had not seen Abby yet, and was ever so slightly worried about her.

The Goth was a sensitive soul; she empathized with everyone. Her heart was always in the right place and her intentions were good.

The doors pinged open and Tony warily stepped out. The strains of a beautiful jazz melody reached his ears. Confused, he peered around the door to the lab.

Abby was rocking from side to side, in time with the music. Her head lolled as well, and she was still somehow able to focus on her work.

Tony fought down the urge to laugh with delight. This made up for all the hard work of the last few days. The sight before him warmed the cockles of his heart and released all his tension.

Without turning round, she called to him. "Hey, Tony. How can I help?"

"You already have," he answered honestly.


	7. Jan 6

_**Jan 6**_

**Friends Activity: Enjoy cooking? Start a dinner club. Invite a group of friends to meet once a month at a different house. The host house is in charge of the entrée; the others are assigned a different course to bring. Pick a different culinary style each month and expand your horizons!**

Jenny rushed to the door as the doorbell rang again. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered under her breath. "Give me a minute." She flung open the door to find Ziva on her doorstep, a dish in her hands.

"Am I early?" the Israeli asked.

"You're the first here," Jenny answered. "It's good to see you. Whose stupid idea was this anyway?" She stepped to one side to allow Ziva in.

"Abby's," Ziva smiled. "I am sure she is unaware of just how bad a cook you are."

"Don't remind me," Jenny groaned. "Why did I agree to this?"

"Because Abby got Gibbs to ask you."

Jenny smelt smoke and ran back into the kitchen.

"It will be okay," Ziva soothed, following her and placing her dish on the side. "Everyone is bringing a dish."

"It doesn't look good if the host has fallen at the first hurdle," Jenny shot back.

"It will be okay," Ziva repeated calmly.

A few hours later, Jenny looked around the table. Ducky and Ziva were deep in conversation about torture marks, while Tony and Abby were winding up McGee. Gibbs sat next to her, poking gingerly at her macaroni cheese.

"I never thought it was possible to burn this," he teased her.

She pretended to ignore him; she couldn't exactly fault his dish.

"I loved it!" Abby squealed. "Who's hosting it next time?"


	8. Jan 7

_**Jan 7**_

**True friendship is like sound health, the value of it is seldom known until it be lost. – Charles Caleb Colton**

Tony groaned as the knocking at his front door continued. Who dared disturb him when he was on his deathbed?

Staggering to his feet, he felt the world spin. Forcing himself to stay upright, he reached the door and pulled it open. "Go away," he muttered.

Gibbs stepped past him and walked into the kitchen. "Evening to you too, DiNozzo."

Tony sighed as he closed the door. "What are you doing here, boss? I'll be fine, just leave me alone."

The answering clattering in the kitchen told him that his boss was not planning to go away any time soon.

"You might catch my flu, boss," he warned, getting bored and collapsing on the couch again. "Like any germ would dare to attack you anyway," he murmured.

He flicked the television back on again to break the monotony. The sound was off, so as not to worsen his headache. He pulled his blanket back over him and closed his eyes briefly. Why was Gibbs here? It was only Saturday; there obviously wasn't a case. He had only missed two days of work so far, and he'd probably miss a few more working days until he felt better and was no longer contagious.

After about half an hour, Gibbs reappeared with a bowl in his hands. Tony sniffed the air. "Chicken soup," he decided.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and placed the bowl on the coffee table. "Eat," he ordered, handing a spoon to his agent.

Tony warily took a sip, worried about his boss' culinary skills. But it was actually very nice, if a little hot. "Thanks, boss," he smiled, one of his genuine smiles.

"I can cook, DiNozzo," Gibbs protested at the look on his face.

"Something to do with three ex-wives?" Tony wondered aloud.

Gibbs scowled and walked towards the door. "McGee's been ordered to visit you tomorrow," he called back to the younger man. "I have not given you permission to die." He walked out the door.

Tony grinned to himself. He felt better already. And there was always the chance he could give McGee the flu tomorrow.


	9. Jan 8

_**Jan 8**_

**A friend's smile leaves an imprint on your heart.**

Her delighted smile lit up the room as she caught sight of the black roses in his hand. His heart warmed at this, overjoyed that she loved his present. He had been forced to scour five different flower shops for this, but it was certainly worth it. On the same day every year, all the florists around the Navy Yard ran out of black roses due to the Goth's love of them. But she never tired of her roses, never decided that she didn't want them, never loved any present less than the previous one.

He crossed the lab slowly, holding out the flowers. She continued to beam, wearing her heart on her sleeve. Gingerly, she reached out and took them, as though she feared he would take them away from her. After a few moments, she moved towards her fridge and deposited them carefully. She walked back over to him. Finally, she reached out and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Happy birthday, Abigail," he muttered.

"Thanks, Ducky," she replied.


	10. Jan 9

_**Jan 9**_

**A friend applauds your strengths, understands your weaknesses, and appreciates the combination that is you.**

Tim sighed as he sank down into his seat. His hands were still shaking slightly and he felt unnerved.

Barely an hour ago, they had been out in the field. A suspect had made a run for it and Tim had been nearest to him. Unfortunately, the suspect had decided to run out onto the roof of a high-rise apartment complex, and Tim had been forced to follow. He had glanced over the edge at one point and the shivers had started. The rest of the team had appeared shortly afterwards, leaving Tim to try to calm himself down.

When he had arrived back at the Navy Yard, he had taken himself off to Abby's lab, but she had been in court for the day and she had locked Bert away in her office. Ducky had been elbow-deep in a cadaver, so Tim had returned to the squad room. The rest of the team were interrogating their suspect – although it was more likely that Gibbs was interrogating him while Ziva and Tony were observing – so Tim was alone in an empty squad room.

He still felt afraid. Intellectually, he knew it was an irrational fear, but it wasn't helping. He could still see the drop…

"Evening, Probie," Tony called, entering the squad room with his usual exuberance. "Are you still scared?"

Tim didn't bother to reply. It wouldn't be worth it.

"I'm serious," Tony continued. "Are you still scared?"

"What do you want me to say?" Tim snapped. "Yes, I'm still scared. Yes, I'm still shaking. I shouldn't be an agent like this. I shouldn't be in the field."

"Nonsense," Tony replied. "You're a great agent. And if you ever repeat that, I will kill you."

"That's not true," Tim protested.

"Who do we turn to when we need computer help? Who do we turn to when Abby's in a huff? Who keeps us vaguely grounded, apart from the messianic LJ Tibbs?"

Tim began to smile.

"Exactly, Probie," Tony grinned. "We need you around here. Quit beating yourself up and get back to work. Our suspect claims to have an alibi and our fearless leader wants you to check it out."

Tim continued to smile as he turned to his computer, his concerns allayed. Maybe he should see a shrink to help him with his fear.


	11. Jan 10

_**Jan 10**_

**Nothing chases away a gloomy day than going out on the town with a bunch of good friends. The noise, the chatter, and laughter serve as the perfect medicine to lift your spirits.**

"Who in the world can enjoy performance evaluations?" Tony grumbled, tapping the side of his glass in frustration.

"I think the correct question should be 'Who invented them?'" Ziva complained on the other side of him, staring at the bartender. "I would kill him if I found out."

"Her, _Zee-vah_," Tony jibed. "Only a woman could come up with something so painful."

"That's not true," McGee piped up. "It was a man who came up with –"

He was cut off by the glare Tony gave him. "We are venting, Probie. We do not care about the facts. If you can't accept that, go join Abby over there –" He pointed in the Goth's direction. "– And help her in her quest to down twenty Red Bulls before the night is out. We are going to sit here and get very drunk."

"Do not be so harsh on Tim," Ziva protested. "He was only trying to help."

"I've never seen you so drunk," Tony retorted. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Stop being putty. Just because you did not do as well as you had hoped does not mean you can take it out on us."

"Petty," McGee corrected. "Not putty."

"Thank you," Ziva smiled, raising her glass in McGee's direction.

Tony groaned. "How can my day get any worse?"

"Tony!" came the excited squeal as Abby charged over. "I heard you didn't do so good on your performance evaluation, but it doesn't matter because I still love you and so does Gibbs, well he doesn't really love anyone except for the Director but that's totally different, but he still thinks you rock and I do too, and –"

Tony tuned her out and smiled. Only his friends could raise his spirits so.


	12. Jan 11

_**Jan 11**_

**The best friendships mellow with age to soothe with just the right amount of sweetness.**

The two men sat in their comfortable chairs, sipping their tea in companionable silence. The corgis lay on the floor, half asleep. The snores of an elderly woman were constant and rhythmic. An old grandfather clock ticked loudly on the mantelpiece.

Outside, the wind howled around the house. Darkness had long since fallen and the night was cold. The stars sparkled in the sky, while the full moon lit up the driveway and the house. An owl shrieked as it caught its prey.

Inside the cozy house, the comfortable silence continued. One man absentmindedly tapped on the side of his mug. The other man ran his hand across the head of a corgi, who sighed contentedly. A fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the room through. A few lights lit up the room, leaving the rest of the house in darkness.

One of the men rose to leave. "Same time next week, Duck?" he checked.


	13. Jan 12

_**Jan 12**_

**What are friends for? Whatever either of you needs.**

"Bert!" came the anguished cry from the lab.

Ziva stepped off the elevator rapidly. This was not good. Every time Abby misplaced her farting hippo, or Tony stole it or one of the janitors moved it, the Goth always managed to work herself into a… county? No, state. Last time this had happened, Gibbs had spent an afternoon alternately soothing Abby and begging Ducky to give her tranquilizers.

Knowing she had to act quickly, the Israeli strode into the lab and turned off the pounding music. "Do you need some help, Abby?" she inquired.

"Tony must have stolen Bert again," Abby wailed. "I can't find him anywhere, and I know I left him on my desk last night and he was all safe and sound, and I knew I should have taken him home last night even though I was at a party for most of the night and I didn't actually go home, but he still would have been safer in the cemetery than locked up here, and –"

Ziva pulled the Goth into a hug to quiet and calm her. Abby froze for a moment, before relaxing. They remained in their position for a few minutes until Ziva let go.

"Do you feel better?" Ziva asked.

Abby gave a weak smile. "Yeah, thanks," she replied. "But I still need Bert."

Ziva returned the smile. "Then we will go and torture Tony together, yes?"

Laughing, the two of them linked arms and headed towards the elevator.


	14. Jan 13

_**Jan 13**_

**Friendship is a union of spirits, a marriage of hearts and the bond thereof virtue. – William Penn**

Gibbs smiled as he stood in the doorway to Abby's lab.

It had been a long tiring day – they had caught a triple homicide the previous evening, and everyone had been working flat out since then. McGee had been dispatched to Abby's lab as the computer evidence began to mount up. Now an arrest had been made, Gibbs had decided to check up on his lab rats.

Abby and McGee were fast asleep on their respective keyboards, next to each other. They looked more carefree and innocent than they had in the last 24 hours. Their breathing was slow, steady and soft; they were breathing as one. The tension had drained from their bodies, leaving them relaxed.

Gibbs sighed softly. He really didn't want to have to wake these two up. They were so close to each other, each half of a whole. They were connected on a level so few people were.

Sipping his coffee, he decided to let them rest a little longer. There really was nothing to be gained from waking them.


	15. Jan 14

_**Jan 14**_

**But if you have my wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation as a friend, indeed, you may command me. I will hear what you like. I will tell you exactly what I think. – Jane Austin, **_**Emma**_

Gibbs found himself unable to take his eyes from Jenny.

"Well?" she asked, impatiently. "What do you think?"

The dress was not particularly revealing, but it showed off her every curve and hugged her body perfectly. The black highlighted her pale skin.

"You are not going out dressed like _that_," he replied, still staring.

"What's wrong with it?" she queried, clearly confused.

"I am not having any men seeing you in that dress," he clarified.

She started to giggle. "I thought I had torn the back or something. But you're just worried about my welfare?"

"Jen," he growled.

"Are you jealous, Jethro?" she inquired, catching him off guard. "Ziva approved of it, as did Ducky."

"Damn it, Jen. No man in his right mind will be able to control himself with you looking like that."

"Including you? Or are you not in your right mind?"

"I guess I walked right into that," he admitted.

"Oh yeah."

"Seriously Jen, have you got anything else to wear?"

"It's just a dress! Why are you getting so worked up about it?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Please Jen? You're going to have guys hitting on you all night."

"I don't mind a bit of flirting."

"You'd better hope there are no Neanderthals at the function, or you're going to be dragged off."

She giggled again. "You'd prefer it if I got changed?"

"Please?"

She gave in. "Fine. I'll see if I can borrow a dress from Ziva."

"Thanks," he smiled back. Maybe he could persuade Jenny to wear that dress some other time, when it was just him and her.


	16. Jan 15

_**Jan 15**_

**If we would build on a sure foundation in friendship, we must love our friends for their sake rather than our own. – Charlotte Bronte**

"_Monk Dawson_, 2001 classic with John Michie and Martin Kemp."

"I have never heard of it," Ziva shot back. "How is that relevant to this case anyway?"

Tony thought about it for a moment. "I have no idea. But it's a great film!" he added at the exasperated look on his partner's face.

"Do any of your ideas come from this reality?"

"Hey! At least I don't have impulse issues."

"Says the man who is unable to control his actions with regard to women."

Tony scratched his head. "Try that again?" he asked. "I didn't quite understand it."

"Never mind," she groaned. Sometimes it was not worth the effort.

"Doing anything interesting tonight, Zee-vah?"

"I need to do my laundry."

He stared at her.

"It has been piling up for a while," she continued. "I need to deal with it."

"No date?" he queried, recovering.

"Only with the manager of a launderette."

"Want some company?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

She considered his offer. "Only if you want to."

"I've got a portable DVD player. I could rent a movie."

"Deal. As long as _I _get to choose the movie."

"Okay. Can it be _Monk Dawson_?"


	17. Jan 16

_**Jan 16**_

**Tea and friendships are available in many comforting varieties.**

Ducky surreptitiously observed Tony as the younger man sipped his tea.

They had spent the day chasing after someone who had murdered another NCIS agent. Those particular cases always struck very close to home for the other agents, and made everyone do their best work, Ducky himself included. He had been fond of Jules Knight, and had found it hard to perform his usual autopsy.

Shortly after the suspect had confessed, Ducky had found Tony looking lost in the hallway and had invited him down for a cup of tea.

Privately, Ducky didn't want to be alone either. Now that the investigation was over, his mind had begun to reflect on his times with Knight. Normally, he welcomed the thoughts, but he had had a long day and wanted the chance to wind down a bit first.

The younger man had taken the death very badly. There was something about being bludgeoned to death that scared a lot of people. However, Tony had had a close call with a plank of wood the previous day, and was clearly trying to work out why he had lived while another agent with a wife and two children was dead.

Ducky had leafed through his tea options, and settled on a nice blend of chamomile, honey and vanilla. It had had a very calming effect. The two of them had allowed the tea to warm them in more ways than one.

Finally, Tony placed his cup down and smiled his trademark smile at Ducky. "Thanks."

Ducky smiled back. "I am always available, Anthony," he reminded him. He did not feel well again, but some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders.

He could only hope that Tony felt better as well.


	18. Jan 17

_**Jan 17**_

**Our closest friends challenge us to change, to grow, and to become the best we can be.**

"Will you please just go away!" Abby screamed.

Ziva stared at the Goth. She had only just entered the lab, so was not sure what she had done to upset her.

Abby whirled around, pen in her hand, ready to give someone a piece of her mind. "Oh, it's you," she said instead.

"Is something the matter?" Ziva inquired.

The Goth turned back to her computer. "Some creepy dude from Finance. He wants me to fill out some forms for him."

"You do not like paperwork?"

"It's not that! I handed the completed forms to him a week ago and he claims he's lost them."

"Oh."

Abby continued to stare at the screen in front of her.

"I could kill him for you," Ziva offered. "Or at least put him through pain."

"I'm going to set Gibbs on him," Abby confided. "But I can't focus! I need to interpret these blood splatter patterns for Agent Monroe."

"Let me have a look."

Abby gave Ziva a funny look. "What do you know about blood splatter patterns?"

"I have caused enough of them myself."

The two of them peered at the screen for a few moments.

"That is a blow," Ziva pointed out. "The victim was sitting. What happened to the chair?"

Abby flipped back to the wider pictures. "It was on the other side of the room when they arrived."

"Look, there," she gestured. "The chair has some stains on it."

"Which supports someone sitting on it when they were attacked!"

Ziva smiled at Abby's excitement. "What about the rest of the photos?"

The two of them barely noticed the time as they raced through a virtual reconstruction of the scene.


	19. Jan 18

_**Jan 18**_

**Love is like the wild rose-briar, friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly? – Emily Bronte, "Love and Friendship"**

Ducky knew things were bad when Gibbs stormed into Autopsy and barked at Palmer that Abby was looking for him.

The young man, wisely deciding not to cross an irate Gibbs, immediately ran out the doors, not looking back. Ducky moved more slowly over to his desk and located a bottle of bourbon. It was supposed to be used as a birthday present, but it seemed to be required now.

"Now then Jethro," he began. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Diane's been calling for the last five hours," his friend complained, taking a few sips of his drink. "Two minutes ago, I found out that she wants more alimony."

Ducky shook his head softly. "Doesn't she get enough from you and Fornell?"

"Apparently not. I've been trying to reach Tobias; I have a feeling that she's trying to pull the same trick on him."

"Well, let's think this through. Has she gone down any official channels yet, or is this just talk so far?"

"Seems to be just talk. You don't know Diane though; I wouldn't put it past her."

"Perhaps you should get a lawyer."

Gibbs winced. "Please, Duck. I hate lawyers."

"And then ask your lawyer to tell her you plan to _reduce_ your payments."

Gibbs considered this for a moment.

"At the very least, it would worry her," Ducky pointed out. He wasn't sure that this was the best course of action, but sometimes it didn't pay to be nice.

"I'll go and consult with Legal," Gibbs decided. He handed the now empty glass back to his friend, before returning to the elevator.

Ducky shook his head again and returned to the job at hand. Why Jethro had married the girl in the first place he did not understand.


	20. Jan 19

_**Jan 19**_

**I bring the simplest pledge of love, friend of my earlier days. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "To James Freeman Clarke"**

Ziva opened the door at the insistent knocking. She was trying to unpack, her belongings having just arrived from Tel Aviv. She did not want any interruptions at this point…

Jenny stood outside, a pizza box in her hands. "Thought you might want some company," she smiled.

Ziva opened the door further and allowed her friend to enter. "I did not think that I packed this much."

Jenny carefully placed the box on top of a pile of cushions. "First time I came back from college, I was amazed at all the things I had managed to acquire," she admitted. "I also realized how much hard work was required to pack and unpack. I don't think I ate in two days."

The Israeli chuckled. "Sounds familiar."

"I thought that dinner would be a good gift. So, how are you finding America?"

She perched on the edge of a different box. "I think it will take me a while to become accustomed to it. But I am finding it interesting."

"It's definitely interesting," Jenny laughed. "What about the team?"

"Agent DiNozzo seems scared of me. McGee is very friendly, while Gibbs…"

"Is Gibbs? It took him a few months to warm up to me. Give it time."

"A few months?" Ziva teased. "Here I thought you got together on day one."

"Ziva!" she mock protested. She pushed the pizza box in her direction. "When was the last time you ate, anyway? Lunch?"

Ziva shrugged her shoulders. "Probably." Opening the box she took a good look at the contents inside. "My favorite."

"Would I get you anything else?"

They shared a smile, their friendship still secure.


	21. Jan 20

_**Jan 20**_

**The miracle of friendship usually begins with a simple smile.**

The elevator doors opened, and Tony found himself assaulted by the blaring music.

It was only his second week as a federal agent, and between his new boss hitting the back of his head every two minutes and the Medical Examiner giving him extremely long winded explanations, he had been glad to be dispatched to 'Abby's Lab'.

Now, it appeared that his hope was about to be extinguished.

He walked into the room, evidence bag in hand, and prepared to meet the monster within.

He wasn't expecting to be attacked by a black blur.

He took a few steps backwards reflexively, trying to regain his balance. The blur either didn't notice or didn't care. Just as suddenly, he was released and he stared at the person in front of him.

Definitely a Goth. Long, black pigtails, black lipstick, extra mascara. Her skirt was far shorter than the regulations allowed, and her top was incredibly tight.

"Whathaveyougot?" she squealed. It took him a moment to separate the sounds out.

"Erm, this." He held up the bag and she snatched it from his fingers. The Goth ran towards her equipment as fast as she could, while signing the chain of evidence log and talking as fast as she could.

"Oh, paint flecks, I love paint flecks, they're so cool, they show how many times the vehicle has been painted and sprayed and how good a job was done every time, but this should take almost no time at all, which is great because I've already got another four jobs for the bossman and they are going to take _ages_ and he doesn't like to have to wait –"

He tuned her excited babbling out. She didn't seem to need to breathe. He was supposed to work with this madwoman? Was everyone around here crazy? He _knew_ he should have gone somewhere else. Maybe somewhere warm, like Hawaii…

He finally noticed that she had stopped speaking and was staring at him.

"Hi," he told her.

"Hi," she replied. "I'm Abby, and you must be DiNardo."

"DiNozzo," he corrected, wincing slightly. Gibbs was having serious problems with his name.

"Okay, DiNozzo. Got a first name?"

"Tony."

"Cool! I'll call you Tony then." She turned back to her computer. "Don't worry; Gibbs will remember your name at some stage."

He assumed it was his signal to leave, and he headed back towards the relative safety of the elevator.

"Tony!" came a call.

He stuck his head round the door.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled.


	22. Jan 21

_**Jan 21**_

**A knowing look from you tells me volumes more than whole conversations with other people. Words aren't even necessary between friends like us.**

Jenny recognized the look that Gibbs was sending her. It was his 'You have to be kidding me' look.

They were standing in MTAC, his team seated while they glared at each other. Their main suspect had used his political connections to get himself released without charge. Gibbs had decided to take this personally, even though she had nothing to do with it.

She shot him another look back. One that told him to stop acting like a petulant child.

His expression changed. Part of it was now anger directed towards her, but mainly it said that he expected her to use her connections to get him returned.

She countered it with a look telling him to go and find some more evidence, not harass her. If they found more evidence and made their case stronger, she could make sure that he couldn't get out when they rearrested him.

He shot her a final glare, warning that this wasn't over, before storming out of MTAC. His faithful team were hot on his heels. Just before the door swung shut, she heard DiNozzo's complaint.

"Did anyone else understand that?"


	23. Jan 22

_**Jan 22**_

**It's easy to love a friend for all the things we have in common. It's harder, but much more valuable, to love the things that set us apart from each other. Learning to appreciate our differences brings a new level of intimacy to our relationships with others.**

Ziva watched as McGee continued to tap away on her keyboard.

"It's basically a piece of spyware," he informed her, his gaze never leaving the computer monitor. "That's why your computer is running so slowly. When did you last run a system check?"

She tried to think back. Computers had never been her strong suit. "A few months ago possibly?"

"Jeez! You should be running it every day to be on the safe side."

She considered her options for a moment. Should she tell him? He wasn't Tony after all.

"Just another minute and it should be back to normal," he announced.

She decided to bite the knife, or was it bullet? "I am not sure _how_ to run the system checks," she confessed. "I am still not accustomed to Windows."

This did not seem to bother Tim. He rose from his seat and indicated that she should take his place. "Okay," he began. "First of all, you need to click on that…"

Less than ten minutes later, McGee was back by his own computer while Ziva typed in a few more commands. She finally felt that she understood what she should be doing, but at the same time she knew where to go if she became stuck.

"McGee," she called.

He looked up, confused.

"I owe you dinner."


	24. Jan 23

_**Jan 23**_

**The light of friendship is like the light of phosphorus, - seen plainest when all around is dark. – Grace Noll Crowell**

Ducky smiled as Abby ran, as much as it was possible to run in her platform shoes, out of Autopsy and into the elevator.

She reminded him of a bright burning candle, bringing light to everyone around her. Even in the darkest hours, you could count on her to be present and attempt to make everything better.

She hugged anyone and everyone, believing that it was a friendly thing to do. Although she sometimes had problems understanding when hugging was not appropriate, she always meant well. Her cheerful nature endeared her to everyone.

Her upbeat demeanor rarely faltered, and her ability to find some spark of goodness in the darkest souls showed how caring she was. She used her strong-willed, stubborn nature to assist her in her work, refusing to give up hope when all seemed lost.

A blur of seemingly impossible contradictions, Abby could be relied on to brighten anyone's day.


	25. Jan 24

_**Jan 24**_

**A good thing that's even better done with a friend: road trip!**

"DiNozzo!"

"Calling her, boss."

An awkward silence fell over the squad room as Tony dialed the number. An important, highly media-sensitive case had suddenly appeared on a Saturday morning, and Gibbs had been called from dispatch after the supposedly on-call team had all managed to come down with the flu.

Sometimes Tony was prepared to swear that these things happened just to irritate him.

They'd managed to recover some trace evidence from the body, and were now frantically trying to get hold of Abby so she could analyze it.

It wasn't going too well. Ziva had proved to be unreachable already, leaving Gibbs in a foul mood. And now Abby was not answering her home phone…

Tony hung up, and tried her cell phone this time. It took a number of rings, but then –

"TONY!" The cry almost burst his ear drum and he dropped the receiver in shock. He quickly recovered and placed it back to his ear. "…and I was just thinking about you sitting all alone in your apartment this weekend, having a James Bond marathon, but they said you couldn't come, so I…"

Gibbs hit the button to put it on speakerphone and cut in.

"Abs, where are you? I need you here _now_."

"Gibbs! How are you? I'm doing great. The sun's in my face and the wind's whipping through my hair and there's not a cloud in the sky –"

"Abs! You need to come in today."

"I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" Tony wondered if running away from his boss was a good idea.

"I'm not in DC. Well, we're not in the tri-state area either, so –"

"We? Who are you with?"

"Hang on; I'll pass the phone over."

There were a few muttered words that Tony couldn't quite decipher.

"Good afternoon Gibbs," Ziva's voice greeted them.

Tony observed Gibbs, who was clearly not happy with this turn of events.

"Where are you?" he barked, furious.

"Erm, I am not entirely sure."

"How can you not be sure?!"

"We are on a road slip."

"Trip," Abby's voice yelled in the background. "A road trip."

"Yes, that," Ziva replied. "We have rented a car and we are driving around. It would take some time to return. Is it not possible for you to handle the case without us?"

"David, I am ordering you back here right now!" Gibbs practically screamed. "Bring Abby with you! How on earth you thought you could get away with this is unbelievable! You can't just disappear for a weekend and steal my lab tech; what were you thinking? You could have mentioned this at some point –"

"Hang on," came the response, and Tony could hear the phone being passed over yet again.

Gibbs decided to try a pre-emptive strike. "Abby, you need to get Ziva to turn the car around and –"

"Good afternoon, Jethro. How's my agency?"

Gibbs turned an interesting shade of red, one that suggested someone's impending doom. Tony had a funny feeling that his next call was going to be to Ducky, in case the boss had a heart attack.

"I might have guessed you were behind this, Jen," he growled. "I need them back here as soon as possible."

"I got that from the shouting down the phone," she remarked, amusement evident in her voice. "Is it something that can't wait?"

"It needs Abby."

"What about the lab tech on call? Simmons? Surely you can use him for once. And I'm certain you can manage without Ziva for a little while longer."

"That's not the point, Jen," he complained, prepared to launch into another tirade.

"We've been planning this trip for the last month," she told him. "Some of us need a break, and don't resort to building a boat to do it. Now, I arranged all the cover before we left. Agent Wofford is on call for me, Simmons can do all your lab work, and you can cope without Ziva for another day. If you really can't manage, call Fornell. He'd love to take your case away from you."

She hung up before he could reply; Tony guessed that she would turn the cell phone off next, to prevent any more interruptions. Gibbs looked as though he was about to explode.

"You know," Tony offered, "I think I saw Agent Wofford's car in the garage. I'm going to see if I can locate her." He began to sidle out from behind his desk.

"Abby normally leaves Simmons' cell phone number in her lab. I'll go and get it," McGee added.

The two men almost sprinted out of the squad room to avoid being on the end of Gibbs' wrath. The boss was not going to be pleased by the turn of events…


	26. Jan 25

_**Jan 25**_

**For the herd of men multiplied many times will never come up to the value of one friend. – Henry David Thoreau, **_**Journal: Winter**_

It started in the elevator early one morning. McGee raced to catch the doors before they closed, and was surprised that someone held them for him.

He was waiting patiently for it to arrive at the squad room when he realized that everyone was watching him. He cast his mind back; what had he done recently that could make them scrutinize him?

He was fairly sure that no one had walked in on him and Abby at an inopportune moment, although he was dreading the day when someone did. He hadn't screwed anything up recently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't even run into Tony yet, so he doubted that there was another note stuck on his back.

"Congratulations, McGee," one of them finally spoke up. Tim strained to remember who he was. Jenkins… from Legal. What had he done to deserve praise from a semi-stranger?

His confusion must have shown on this face, as Jenkins tried to jog his memory. "Yesterday? The kid? You pulled a young girl from a lake?"

"Oh, yeah, that?" Had it really made the rounds of NCIS already? "Thanks."

"What happened?" someone else hissed.

"He jumped into a freezing lake, fully clothed, and rescued a child from drowning," came the whispered reply.

Honestly, Tim thought nothing much of it. Okay, so he _did_ feel like a hero, but he didn't need this obviously fake praise. These people hadn't been there, didn't know what had occurred, didn't really care.

Shortly after booting his computer up while sat at his desk, someone else came over.

"Peter Watkins," the man announced, sticking a podgy hand out. "Finance. Heard what happened yesterday. Well done."

Tim nodded softly. He had never even seen the man before and didn't need his praise. He'd just been doing his job, after all.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the team arrived, and Gibbs' glare kept most of the well-wishers away. Tim was secretly glad; he had a hard computer trace to pull off and ideally needed Abby around. Unfortunately, the Goth had chosen that particular day to disappear to a forensics conference.

When he left the squad room to collect some much-needed coffee, he found himself accosted by a very burly man. "Anderson. Just transferred from Maine. Great job yesterday."

Tim had practically run away this time. Couldn't people tell he wanted to be left alone? Stranger's opinions didn't matter to him. He had just been doing his job, and was sure that anyone else in the same position would have done exactly the same.

At last, the team began to wind down for the day. Tim was surprised to see Tony walk over to him. "Just wanted to say, Probie, that girl owes you her life."

With that, he was gone, running towards the elevator and yelling for Ziva to hold it. But Tim didn't notice. Tony, his friend, had praised him. Admittedly it was in his own way, but it didn't matter. One friend made him feel better than all the strangers put together.


	27. Jan 26

_**Jan 26**_

**Therefore, they who were my friends  
****Never can be changed or old;  
****For the beauty of their youth  
****Fond remembrance well can hold. – Phoebe Cary, "Loss and Gain"**

"Happy birthday, Duck."

Ducky looked up from dissecting Ensign Ellis' liver. "Jethro! I was just about to call you. It seems that our young friend here –"

"Later," Gibbs interrupted. "One bottle of scotch," he waved it in the air, "and a new teapot."

The ME carefully placed the scalpel down and moved over to his old friend's side. "I fail to see the teapot."

"You're a better investigator than Palmer then."

"Oh, dear. What has Mr. Palmer done this time?"

Gibbs motioned for him to take a seat, which he did. "I left your presents on my desk this morning, with the teapot all wrapped up. When I went for coffee, it appears that DiNozzo got a bit curious about the contents of your present."

"How on earth did Mr. Palmer become involved?"

"Seems he was hunting for Michelle Lee, something about a missing autopsy report?"

"Yes, I sent him up there. That poor girl keeps misplacing them. You know, last week I had to send her four extra copies!"

"According to Ziva, Tony managed to persuade Palmer to open the present very carefully to see what was inside. When I returned, your assistant was so shocked that he dropped it on the floor."

"Oh no. Is everyone OK? China shards can be very dangerous."

Gibbs grinned. "I'm sure that they're all discovering that right now."

"What have you done?"

"I gave them all a tube of superglue and told them to reassemble it."

Ducky smiled. "And I presume you got that idea from the time we accidentally dropped that teapot in Jacksonville? It took weeks to get it back together!"

"Oh, I remember that one. Never thought something so simple could take so long."

A comfortable silence fell over Autopsy for a while, as each man stayed lost in their thoughts of past adventures.


	28. Jan 27

_**Jan 27**_

**The weight of the world on your shoulders becomes proportionately less to the strength of your friendships.**

Jenny shifted uncomfortably in her seat, files scattered all over her desk. It was some ungodly hour on a Friday night, and, as far as she was aware, everyone else had left for the weekend.

Not her.

The fate of the world rested on signing off case reports by the morning, or so it seemed. Cases would fall apart in court without her help, potential leads would be missed, and justice would be blocked. Why the team leaders and the Legal department couldn't do this work she had yet to figure out.

Her frustration rose as she did a quick mental review of the files in front of her. If she hurried, she could get through them in another two hours. If she took her time and did her job properly, it would take three.

The door to her office swung open unexpectedly to reveal one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, both hands full with coffee cups. She couldn't quite summon the energy to raise an eyebrow at him, and settled for staring.

"It's 2300, Jen," he told her, taking a seat opposite. "What are you still doing here?"

"What does it look like?"

He briefly glanced at the paper spread out everywhere. "Single-handedly destroying half the Amazonian rainforest?"

She laughed, a proper laugh, one that she hadn't had in a long time. Several minutes later she managed to recover, a slight grin still present on her face.

He was smirking, but offered her the extra coffee cup anyway.

"Thanks," she smiled. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Well…" He looked a bit uncertain for a moment. "I'm about to head back to an empty basement and drink bourbon until the small hours of the morning. You're either doing to stay here til the early hours, or go home and work there."

This time she quirked an eyebrow.

"I was thinking…"

She waited patiently.

"That you might want to bring your…" He waved his free hand vaguely over the files. "And come somewhere with free bourbon and company."

She considered momentarily.

"Take the weight off your shoulders for a little bit, Jen," he soothed.

"Fine." She started to gather the files together as he watched. "And Jethro, thank you."

His answering grin chased all the dark thoughts away.


	29. Jan 28

_**Jan 28**_

**A loyal and true friend is a precious, priceless gift.**

"No."

"Come on, Abby. Please?" Tony pleaded.

"No."

"I'll give you a Caf-Pow."

"No."

"I'll let you win the next pool."

"No."

"I'll give you a hundred bucks."

"No."

"I'll make Bert a girlfriend."

"You know how to make farting hippos?"

"Erm…"

"No."

Tony hopped up and down on the spot in frustration. "I'll buy you the new Lordi CD."

"Already got it. And no."

"I'll get you tickets to see Suicide Commando."

"No."

"Front row?"

"No."

"I'll buy you a candy bar every day for a year."

"No."

"I'll take you out to dinner. Anywhere, your choice."

"No."

"Even the Ritz Carlton?"

"No."

"I'll beg the Director to get you some new equipment."

"No."

"Please, Abby! I'll do anything!"

"For the last time, no! Now leave me alone; I need to fix my mass-spec again."

"I'll fix your mass-spec."

"Do you even know how it works? Do you know what it does? Can you fix it?"

"Err, no to all of those, but I can get you someone who does."

"No. I can do it myself. Elevator's that way."

Tony scowled and walked out. Abby snatched up her phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Ziva, it's me. I promise I didn't tell Tony about the new guy you're dating… I think he's a bit annoyed…"


	30. Jan 29

_**Jan 29**_

**When the world's trying to beat you down, know that I'm here to lift you up.**

McGee mused as he sat at his desk, typewriter in front of him. He'd had a horrible day; cases involving little children always hit the hardest. Now all he wanted to do was forget about it.

Everyone had rallied round in different ways. Within seconds of a confession from their suspect, Tony had asked everyone if they wanted to go clubbing later. Tim had declined, not yet prepared to see such joy when he had recently seen such sorrow.

Ziva had offered to spend time in the gym, to allow anyone to burn off their frustrations. Tim had been sorely tempted; it was a good outlet for anger after all. But he had declined that offer as well, wanting to spend some time alone with his thoughts.

Gibbs had caught up with him just before he left. The older man had placed his hand on Tim's shoulder and given him the best help.

"Call Sarah."

One phone call later, and he was feeling much better.


	31. Jan 30

_**Jan 30**_

**We look to our friends for different things. Some are "night on the town" friends. Some are telephone friends. Others are office friends. Each contributes unique qualities and brings something special to our lives.**

Gibbs glanced around as his team slumbered on in the squad room. He felt so proud of them.

Tony was leaning back in his chair, which was threatening to topple over. His oldest boy. The son he'd never had. The one who brightened everyone's day and never took anything too seriously.

Ziva had curled up under her desk, omnipresent gun in hand. She was his daughter, a true warrior at heart. Fiery yet controlled. Powerful yet small. Her antics with Tony were priceless, even though he would never admit it out loud.

Tim, the younger boy. Picked on by his 'siblings', but capable of standing his ground. Smart, intelligent, could do things with a computer that Gibbs could only dream of. Preferred negotiation over aggression, but prepared to do whatever it took.

His team. His family. All different. All unique.


	32. Jan 31

_**Jan 31**_

**With girlfriends you laugh until tears stream down your face. Then you wonder what was so funny.**

The elevator dinged its' arrival, and Gibbs stepped off, the obligatory Caf-Pow in his hand. It had been a long, tiring day, and he just hoped that Abby had found a match.

It took him a moment to notice the laughter over the babble of the music. He was momentarily perturbed, fairly sure that only Abby and Ziva were present in the lab. What was going on?

He strode into the lab, and froze.

Ziva and Abby were slumped against a fridge at the side, laughing so hard that they were crying. The Goth's mascara was smeared heavily, while the Israeli clutched her sides.

He cleared his throat loudly.

They looked up, clearly surprised to see him there. Abby recovered first and scrambled to her feet.

"No match yet, oh mighty bossman, but my babies are going as fast as they can –"

"Is everything OK?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Oh, well, we were just… I don't know _what_ we were doing actually."

Gibbs turned to Ziva. She had also stood up and was wiping the tears from her face.

"We were talking," Ziva offered. "I do not recall what was so funny."

Gibbs shook his head softly. "Abs, hurry up and get me a match. David, with me."

As the elevator doors closed, Gibbs wished he knew what was so hilarious. He could really use a laugh…


End file.
